A Modern Slave
by SharkOfJade
Summary: "You like to sew? What a queer!" "Painting is so not you!" "But you're a guy! You don't act like a guy! Why aren't you manly?" What DOES it mean to be 'a guy? What does it mean to be 'manly? What does 'a man' have to do to 'become strong? [Kanji Tatsumi-centric one-shot. Takes place one year before Persona 4. Contains violence and harsh language]


The Tatsumi Textiles was a comforting place in the small and quaint town of Inaba, like the coziest of all bird nests in the most solitary of all trees. The lovebirds that decided to call such a nest their home were known to most as Mr. and Mrs. Tatsumi. Others knew them known as the sweetest lady anyone could've ever met in their entire lives who had one hell of an eye for cloths and color, and her wonderfully prim and proper husband who wasn't afraid to offer a hand of help to anyone, even if he never met them before.

They both had a good life together in all but a house modeled halfway into a textile shop, not just with each other, but also their own son.

A son who had inherited his mother's raven black hair, and his father's handsome, but also adorable facial features. To him, the home (AKA Textile Shop) of the Tatsumis was a magical place; where cloth was alive, and the cutest of stuffed animals made their habitat, leaving the young child to bask in the joys of sewing, knitting, and painting to his heart's content, and be as happy as a clam.

That was, until one such incident in school.

Where a girl's purse had fallen right out of her hands due to the handle breaking off: the strands that held it together had become weak and loose, possibly from being tugged on too harsh at one point. It resulted in her purse falling apart right in the middle of a class and left all of her possessions slipped on the floor, and leaving the girl with a pair of the soggiest of eyes.

The young boy from the Tatsumi Textile shop then wasted no time picking up the knick-nacks that fell out, and pulling out his own sewing needle and spool for the purse. Thankfully, it wasn't a difficult task to sew the handle back on, and did so in only a minute. He then gave the purse right back with a gentle "Here you go." and a soft smile, while also putting some of the stuff she dropped back into it.

The girl only responded with a soft-spoken thank you, and took her purse back along with her belongings. As she held it up in the air to check, the handle stayed tight on the purse more than ever before.

The young boy felt a small tingle in his tummy; the kind that made you wanna smile and snicker a bit. Whether it was from hearing such a cute girl thank him, or see how well his sewing skills worked on the purse, it was a good feeling to have.

The next day, the little boy saw the same girl on her knees and crying her heart out, while all of the girls around her were laughing at her.

Echoes of "You actually know that weirdo!?" and "Eww, don't tell me you're Tatsumi's girlfriend! I don't think he even knows that he's a guy after all!" filled the school hallway the young boy and girl was in, alongside her constant sobs as her hands concealed her entire face.

The boy himself felt his knees begin to tremble just from hearing the teasing echo in the hall, and in a feat of true cowardice, he ran from the scene and tried to reach the boy's bathroom.

"Hey! Tatsumi's running off again!"

"What do ya expect? He's a scaredy cat, and a gross one at that! Remember when he tried to play house with us?"

The various comments from all of the other kids that saw him buzzed around in the halls, and continued to do so in his skull. They kept bouncing back and forth in his head like the ball in a game of pong, as more of them kept squirming their way in as well. It made his eyes sting, his breath heavy, but it also made his throat closed up, with something at the back of it trying to find its way outta him.

"SHUT UP!" He yelled back at all of the kids around him, letting out what was trapped in the back of his throat. That seemed to shut everyone up too, since all they did was stare at him, as if they were looking at lion that just escaped from the zoo; complete with gritting teeth, the harshest of breaths that almost sounded like growls, and eyes that were so red, one could've thought that they were bloodshot at first glance.

Heh, good fucking times.

The name's Kanji Tatsumi. That child you were just told about? Used to be me. I say 'used to' because ever since then, that child's officially been declared dead.

The moment that I entered the picture was when the kid started puttin' together some clothing that was coated left and right with skulls and fire, and when his bathroom suddenly had a whole gallon of bleach tucked away in it. Along with all of that were also the new ear and nose piercings that were at least sixty percent Punk Ass Stereotype.

But the very last nail on the coffin was what happened to Dad.

I woke up one morning to notice that Ma wasn't nudging my shoulder in my sleep like she usually did to get my ass outta bed. Instead, she was downstairs on the phone mostly nodding into the receiver, while her eyes looked like they were ready to tear up at any second.

She soon hung up the phone, and turned her head to see me standing on the stairs. "Kanji? What're you doing up so early?" She asked me with a pair of wide eyes.

"You're the one to usually wake me up so I can get to school on time, 'member Ma?" I let out simple (albeit rather fake) laugh at my own joke while I rubbed the back of my head and came all the way down the stairs. "…Who were you talking to over the phone though?"

Her eye contact averted away from mine, as her delayed response caused a chilling silence to fill the air of our home for a few seconds.

"…It was the Doctor. Your father…" She responded, but also hesitated to finish her sentence. "…He's in the hospital right now."

I felt my heart push against my ribcage for a split second when Ma told me that. This wasn't the first time she told me that Dad was in the hospital, but that didn't make the news any easier on either of us. 'Specially since the old man was already diagnosed with cancer in his ass.

"And it's not for just a simple checkup, is it?" I asked Ma. If it was, her eyes wouldn't be this damp.

Ma's the last person in the world who would lie to me, so she gave a small nod before finally putting the phone back down.

We wasted no time getting to the hospital after school to see Dad, stomaching through the asinine waiting times to get to his room. Naturally, I let Ma see him first, while I just stood right next to the door out in the hall. The scents of God knows how many medical drugs and dirty basins wafted in the air like usual, burning my nostrils just about every time I took in a breath.

After a random guess of about an hour or so, Ma came out of the room with a fresh coat of tears on her face, coming from the reddest of eyes. She didn't look at me just yet 'cause she was still rubbing her eyes out, but I could already tell what happened from just seeing her exit the door, so I didn't need the eye contact.

In a short but rather loud breath, I gathered up every goddamn nerve in my body just so I could turn the door handle, and managed to walk into the room.

And there he was, lying in the hospital bed with an IV embedded in one arm, roughly as thin as any given photoshop of a supermodel on all the magazines in the stores, and his face looking just as pale as the ghostly white sheets that were draped over him. To say that he looked pathetic would be one hell of an understatement.

"Kanji?" He called out without even turning his head to look at me, in a rather ghoulish manner. But I knew that his spine hurt like a bitch thanks to the spreading cancer, so I couldn't blame him. He also let out a wimpy chuckle. "Come closer son. I'm not contagious after all, remember?"

I swallowed the small lump in my throat and brought myself to the chair at Dad's bedside. His head still didn't move, but his eyes looked right at me, and a smile crawled up from the ends of his lips.

"Kanji, are you still bleaching your hair like that? You know that you're gonna lose your hair early." He laughed out at the sight of my bleach blonde head.

"Ah shut up will ya?" I snapped back at him. Jesus, even in a hospital bed, my old man nags at me about my hair.

Dad just chuckled back before the grin he had soon started to fade away.

"…Kanji, you're fourteen now, aren't you?" He asked me in a rueful tone. "The years just keep passing by, don't they? You already look like a grown man…"

I nodded, trying to ignore the growing number of butterflies wrecking shit up in my gut.

"…Listen Kanji." As he started talking again, I was sure that his face became paler by a whole shade. "If you're a man, you have to become strong." The minute that he told me that, I felt some kinda burning feeling in my chest, and I grit my teeth with my lips closed. Is he sayin' that I'm not a real man?

"It's a hard concept to truly grasp, so-o-oaack!" Before Dad could finish, vomit started bubbling out of his throat and choking him, with spots of puke yellow staining the white bed sheets now. I suddenly froze, panicking a bit on the inside until the doctors soon rushed into the room and kicked me out, saying stuff about the symptoms starting up again.

When I was back outside the hall with Ma, my heart felt like a pounding jackhammer, with my lips sewn shut. Ma immediately just held me close, and buried her face into my shoulder until Visiting Hours had officially ended.

We got back home, and I raced up right to my room and flopped right onto the bed, holding back the urge to punch the nearest wall until my knuckles bled. Who the hell does Dad think he is, sayin' that I'm not a real man like that? 'Specially when he's the one stuck in that freaking hospital!

I dunno what happened the rest of that evening, since the next thing I remember after that was both of my eyelids slowly opening up to the sight of my room, with small rays of sunlight seeping in through the shutters over the window.

…It almost felt like I was just waking up from a bad dream, but when I got downstairs, I knew that wasn't the case.

Ma was on the phone again, holding it in one hand, and holding several tissues in the other. From the looks of it, she was being informed on the aftermath of last night, and it definitely wasn't good news.

When I took another step closer, I heard the faint voice on the other line that Ma was hearing from.

"_Very well. We'll preserve the body until the cremation is ready. Take care now Ms. Tatsumi."_

Ma nodded into the receiver, and hung up. With just one blink of her eyes, a pair of droplets came trickling down her cheeks. She soon turned her to see me standing right next to her, and without a word, wrapped both of her arms around me while burying her face into my shoulder.

I didn't need a recap to know what happened to Dad last night.

The old bastard… leaving us like that…

* * *

The next couple o' weeks after that didn't go a whole lot better either. Not only was Ma running herself ragged now that she was running the store on her own, but every few evenings, some bikers would show up, making a ruckus on their noisy-ass motorcycles, and then spend the rest of the whole night yelling their lungs out.

For the first night, I just tried to shrug it off, usually by folding the pillow to cover both of my ears until I wound up asleep. The next night though, they came right back again, yelling their lungs out about any bullshit they were doing, be it drinking booze or hooking lot lizards.

The crap went on for at least a couple weeks, until one day, where I woke up to find Ma kneeling on the countertop in our kitchen, holding up a Ziploc bag full of whole ice cubes to her forehead.

"Ma!" I cried out, moving right to her side and holding up the bag of ice for her. The freezing touch stung like hell on my hand in just a few seconds, and who knows how long Ma was holding it. "Don't tell me you're getting sick too!"

"I-it's alright Kanji…" She told me in a tone dripping with exasperation. "I'm just currently fighting off a mild headache, so it should be gone in just a few hours."

"If it was mild, then why are both the lights off, and the curtains up?" I asked her, cutting the crap from this conversation. "Have you been getting enough sleep Ma?"

"…I've had a few rough nights…" "But I swear that it's nothing serious."

I scowled. Dammit Ma, I already know you're comparing this to what Dad went through. "…Will ya at least take a quick nap?"

An unnerving silence seemed to fill the air for a couple seconds, up until Ma let out a gentle laugh. "Alright then… I know better than to ignore your advice after all Kanji." With that, she took the ice bag out my hand, placed it in the sink, and slowly headed up the staircase, with a hand always pressing against both her eyes, and her forehead.

After a few minutes, I went back upstairs, and peered into Ma's room to see how she was doing. Sure enough, she was out like a light in the bed, with our blackout curtains hung up to keep even the smallest shred of light from coming in.

It was an insomnia-induced migraine, no doubt about it.

And I knew exactly which motherfuckers were the ones keeping her from getting a wink of sleep at night.

* * *

The thick blanket of nighttime had covered the bright blue sky now, which meant that those biker bastards would show up any minute now.

Made sure that the light in the kitchen was turned on so that it'd keep everybody from thinking that the house was empty, and I had the spare key to our door in my pocket as well so that I could get back inside without waking up Ma.

Assuming that I can shut up the leather-wearing pansies that just drove in from the highway and pulled in to the shopping district.

In mere seconds after getting off o' their scooters, they gathered to the closest back alleyway they could find in the district, with the thick stench of cheap booze tailing them as well. Even just walking into the alley, I got pelted right in the head with a lazily tossed beer can, with no shortage of cursing that I let out from it. I soon took a hold of the can before pressing it into a disk on the hard wall. When I reached the rat's den, my hand instantly tossed the disk right into one of the biker's craniums.

"Ow! Fuck!" He naturally yelled out, which brought the eyes of all the bikers right onto me.

"Hey." I said. "Get the hell outta here, will ya? Some people are trying to sleep in this time of night."

"Th' fuck makes you think you can tell us what to do!?" The apparent lead biker yelled out at me, with all the others standing right up and pulling out their iron pipes and brass knuckles.

Dammit, there went the chance to solve things peacefully.

I curled my hands into fists, and went right at those bastards! Socked one of 'em right in the face that they fell right to ground spittin' out blood, and then elbowed another one right in the gut, tryin' to pull a backstab and ended up cutting my fore head, but that didn't even hurt right now! Another came, and I gave 'im a swift kick to the gut, but another fucker managed to nail me right on the skull with a plank of wood. I grit my teeth again, already feeling blood on my skin, and resisting the urge to my hand up to quell the pain before I turned back to break that dipshit's nose!

The assaults came from every direction with no sign of shit slowing down. The alleyway kept piling up with bikers writhing in pain and wiping off their own blood, but these jackasses still didn't know when to quit.

In a stroke of luck, I managed to nab an iron pipe from one of 'em, and give him a good smack to show 'em all how much that shit hurt.

"Now get the hell outta here!" I yelled out at the top of my lungs. "Unless you want me to break all of your fucking skulls open!"

The last handful of bikers just stood there pissing their pants, and soon, all of them and the ones previously curling and bleeding on the ground took right off on their motorbikes into the highway, and away from Inaba.

I dropped the iron pipe, hearing the clank sound it made echo in my ears from how dead silent the nighttime town was now.

As I walked back home, I recounted all the nicks and bruises I got, counting by the order that the pain came hitting me back now that I wasn't ticked. First was the cut I got on my forehead that probably nicked the bone from how often the blood trickled from it and stung my eye. Next were my knuckles, which already had plenty of the skin peeling right off and probably staining the inside of my pant pockets. There was also a shitton of bruises on my head, a few smacks on the spine from all the pipes and two-by-fours, my left cheek swelling up from a punch, and a sore as fuck abdomen coated with cuts that got through my shirt.

As my head kept getting lighter and dizzier, I reached the front door to my house, letting out a small sigh of relief to see virtually nothing changed, signifying that Ma hadn't woken up yet. I searched around in my pockets to find the spare key…

…but I only found the lint at the very bottom.

My heart started racing again, and I took off to get back to that alleyway. Don't tell me the stupid thing fell outta my pocket during the fight!

I reached the back alley in barely any time at all, but once I saw who else was there, my blood froze into ice.

It was the police, searching and investigating the bloodied fight scene left of right, and all of whom were shining their flashlights right on me when I was in the alley.

I heard some faint yells of "Who are you!?" and "Hey! This is a crime scene!" but the blood rushing to my brain kept me from hearing clearly.

But there was one noise I heard above all others.

The deafening bang of a gunshot.

Just as the sound stung in my ears, a sharp pain went right through my abdomen, and spread to rest of my body like wildfire. With a quick glance down, the corners of my eyes caught a gush of blood coming from stomach, staining my shirt in mere seconds.

I also felt an odd force push me back, and cause me to lose my balance and make me fall right onto the rough gravel, holding my stomach with both of my arms as they were getting stained red as well.

I heard some mumbling going on from the police, barely being able to make out shit like 'biker thug' and 'irresponsible', but the rushing in my ears just kept getting worse 'till I was practically deaf. My vision was getting blurrier too, and I only felt about a few finger on my shoulder, and cold metal on both of my wrists before my entire body only felt heat, boiling from deep inside, and soon afterwards, numbness.

Every breath I took became harsher and harsher; all the while my eyelids grew heavy as hell.

My eyes closed by their own will, and a silent breath emerged from my mouth, before my mind went completely blank. No anger, no fear, no pain. Nothing.

* * *

…_If you're a man, you have to become strong…_

* * *

…My eyelids slowly twitch, as my mind still feels groggy and blank. After a few more of 'em, my eyes open up bit by bit, having little to no time to adjust to the blinding light pounding down on me from above.

…The smell of disinfectant was all too familiar…

As was the sight of my current wardrobe when I looked down, and say myself adorned in a hospital gown while covered with the whitest of sheets, with the abnormality being a tube protruding from my gown, and hooking up to a machine next to the small bed I was practically stuck in.

…Fuck, this is definitely the hospital.

I slapped my forehead with a hand, but even that much ended up hurting like a bitch from touching the cut on my head, which was now wiped clean of blood and stitched up. I also felt an array of bandages wrapped around my hands, especially my knuckles, and the ungodly pain from my abdomen was still there, although not nearly as bad now.

With a flip up of the sheet, and a tug on the gown, I saw that the tube was firmly taped onto me, sucking the air out of a small piece of foam that was in one hell of a nasty wound on me. I swear that just looking at it automatically made the pain a few notches worse.

A couple seconds later, the hinges on the hospital room door creaked open, and with a quick look back to it, I saw my mom, ever so slowly walking towards me with her head rather downcast. She eventually sat down on the chair at my bedside, with her eyes looking down, and her hands trembling.

"…Ma-" I couldn't utter a single syllable before Ma slapped me right on the cheek, with the sting of it crawling all over my face in two seconds flat.

"Kanji Tatsumi! How could you become so reckless like that!?" She yelled right into my ears, making them ring a bit. "Did you really think putting yourself at such risk would solve anything?! Did you already forget what happened to your father!?" For the last couple o' minutes, Ma just kept yelling her lungs out at me, with the frantic concern in her voice hurting a hell of a lot worse than any injury from last night.

Once Ma had finished her first batch of scolding, I winced, already expecting another slap across the face.

A full second soon passed, but it hadn't come for some reason.

When I opened my eyes again, and looked back at Ma, her arm raised high, trembling in the air, and prepared to give a good smack. All the while her face was laced with horror, distress, and desolation all at once, as it was also soaked with tears.

A few seconds had passed, that of which felt like a few hours, and Ma just wrapped her arms right around my shoulders, and her face instantly buried into the crook of my neck as she started sobbing her heart out.

…My chest felt tighter than ever, and my own eyes started to sting like shit now. In the back of my thick-skulled head, I desperately wanted to apologize to her for causing such a fucking mess of things now, but I knew that I couldn't.

No apology in the world could make up for this, so giving one would just piss her off even more.

…Dammit Ma, you didn't deserve having a punk like me for a son…

All those days in the hospital were a pain in the ass if there ever was one. Not just from the shitty hospital food and the doctors being a bunch of pains in the ass over what I should and shouldn't be doing, but also finding out about the crap that happened with the police now since that night. Apparently, I was charged with crimes of violence and assault, since they found my fingerprints on one of the bloodied up pipes there, and managed to piece together that it was a fight with the biker gang.

The only thing that kept my ass outta jail was the fact that I'm only fourteen, which was charged against the jackass of a police officer that shot me, apparently assuming that I was one of those dipshit bikers. But even so, I still got two outta three strikes on my record now, so I'm stuck walking on eggshells for the rest o' my life now…

After fuck knows how long, they finally released me from the hospital and let me go back home, under the condition that I was 'careful' with the wound and the skin grafts. Those doctors definitely tell some of the shittiest of jokes if I've ever heard 'em.

When I came back to the house with Ma, she gave another tight hug as well as a few kisses on the cheek before asking me what I wanted for dinner.

"…Anything's fine." That was all I told her before retreating to my room and curling up on my bed.

"…Kanji?" Ma said from right outside my door. I knew that 'cause I could see her shadow in the small ray of light coming from the bottom. "…I'll make your favorite then. Come down when it's ready, alright dear?"

"…Yeah. I gotcha Ma."

"Alright." She said. From the tone of her voice, it sounded like she was smiling. "I love you Kanji."

When I heard her say that, my heart dropped all the way to my gut.

"…I love ya too Ma." I replied in a much more gentle tone of voice than usual. I could hear something of a small laugh behind the door, and watched as her shadow walked away, showing that she was going back downstairs.

I buried my face into the nearest pillow, similar to what Ma did in the hospital the first time she visited me, and held back the urge to scream in it.

* * *

"Thank you again for your delivery Kanji-kun." Mrs. Amagi, the main manager of the Amagi Inn, said to me with a smile.

"Heh, no prob Amagi-san." I chuckled back as I placed the fabrics she had ordered on one of the counters. It had been a couple weeks since I was discharged from the hospital, and Ma finally let me deliver orders for her now. Thank god too, I was worried about how much longer I was gonna rot away in my room! "Just glad I could be of some use for once."

Ms. Amagi laughed a bit as her smile only grew, and put her payment for the cloths she had ordered into my hand, which I then tucked into one of my pockets, and turned to the door.

"Oh, Kanji-kun, be careful on your way back, alright?"

I laughed a little. "Heh, relax Amagi-san. This shit doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it used to, so I'll be fine." I said with a small wave of my hand, still wrapped in bandages. "Thanks for worrying though."

She grinned again and passed a simple 'you're welcome' as I walked out to get back home.

As I walked up to the bus stop though, I couldn't help but notice how everyone else who was waiting quickly threw a surprised stare at me, like they almost expected me to be sportin' a full-body tattoo and a knife under these clothes. They looked away just a half-second later though, while also taking a small step away. Typical, since they'd be able to use the 'I was giving you personal space' excuse.

"The fuck're you all lookin' at?" I exclaimed at 'em, which sent just about all of them away in a scurry. Once I was all by myself at the bus stop, I let out a 'tch'. At least now I can deal with their bullshit less often.

The bus drove up just a few minutes later, and fortunately I had no problem paying for the fair with my own money (What kinda son would I be if I used Ma's cash from work after all?), nor did I finding my own seat.

Unfortunately, one of the passengers sitting across from me was a police officer, who wouldn't take his freaking eyes off of me.

"Hey." He said to me in that tone they use for interrogation. "Where'd you get all that money from?"

At first, I just raised an eyebrow as a non-verbal 'what the fuck?' but once I looked back down at the pocket I was keeping Ms. Amagi's payment in, and the money was starting to stick out a touch since I was sitting down and stretching the fabric.

"I was makin' a delivery genius." I said, turning my head the other way.

"Is that the honest truth?" He started glaring now, which was ticking me off again.

"Yes! My Ma runs a textile shop thank you!" The minute that I yelled that out, everyone in the bus started to mutter about something or other.

"Is there gonna be a scene here?" "Do you think it's one of those punks from that fight?" "But wait, I've gone to the textile shop in Inaba before. …Are you telling me that the child of that sweet woman in a biker punk?" "Quiet down, he might hear you! Would you want a guy that big hunting you down?"

It was such a clusterfuck of people and voices, that it was impossible to figure out who was saying what. All the while, I was just trying to drown out all of their prattling to keep myself from getting pissed again. I didn't care about everything that they were gossiping about, but would they shut up about it already?

"Alright, settle back down there everyone!" The bus driver yelled to everyone while veering back at the crowd from his seat. A pretty stupid move if you ask me, since I'm pretty sure driving requires you to see what's going on. "The next stop is Yasoinaba, so you can all chatter there!"

That was enough to shut everyone up, including the police officer, but he still threw a glare my way before he soon moved to a different seat.

I felt a faint growl rumble in my throat from that. Especially when I remembered seeing other people with a couple bills sticking outta their pockets as they sat down; they just didn't look like nearly as much of a banged-up punk like I did.

* * *

The minute that I got back home, I went right back into the room I spent several weeks cooped up in. All of the cute plushies and crocheted animals were set in place on all of the table tops, just like how it was when I was a kid, but I never brought them outside of my room since I was a kid.

And I remembered exactly why.

Whenever I take a step outside of this room o' mine, I'm not Kanji Tatsumi. Instead, I'm a wild dog that's meant to be held in place by a spiked collar, and a chain leash.

Everybody else was taught to stay still and never tug on the leash since they were pups, so they grew up never trying to. But because I grew up in a place that wasn't nearly that restricting, I couldn't take that kinda shit, and tried whatever I could to get off of that leash, I'd get lashed and beaten for not doing what they wanted me to, so they made the collar even tighter.

If I just do whatever the fuck they want me to, I'm still stuck on that leash, but if I don't, then they beat the shit outta me and call me a mad dog.

How the fuck am I supposed to get outta this… if I even can get out at all…?

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Ever since Persona 5 was revealed to be about people who are oppressed by society, I've been relieved as hell to see a Persona game heading in a more serious and possibly controversial direction now. But at the same time, I don't think the concept of society's oppression on people has never been touched on before._

_And Kanji Tatsumi truly does seem like a character that suffers from such oppression, something that I feel the fanbase overlooks due to the overwhelming controversy of Kanji's sexuality. But to be perfectly honest, I feel like that's only a fragment of what his character is truly about. The rest of his character deals almost entirely with the male oppression present in society, otherwise known as the 'Man Box'. If you're male, but don't fit into that box of being 'strong, dominant, burly, never weak' and so on, than you must be a 'faggot' or a 'pussy' because quote unquote "real men" would never be so feminine as to sew or paint._

_Thus where his façade of being a tough punk comes from, to which he tries to be what all of the bullies had him convinced was the definition of being strong, but only led him into deep trouble that continued to haunt him, especially in his relationship with the town police._

_I don't know about you, but to me, that definitely sounds like a young man who's had to suffer some of the worst of men's oppression._


End file.
